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The Modal Joys of Aram Khachaturian New York
Weill Recital Hall, Carnegie Hall
06/10/2025 -
Aram Khachaturian: Adagio from Spartacus (arr. Matthew Cameron) – Poem – Two Pieces: “Nocturne” & “Romance” – Two pieces from Masquerade (arr. Alexander Dolukhanian) – Toccata – “Oror” from Gayaneh (arr. Poghosyan) – Piano Sonata
Kariné Poghosyan (Pianist) 
A. Khachaturian, K. Poghosyan (© Roger Pic/karineplays.com)
“I would describe Russian music as ‘light serious’ or ‘serious light’. It must be tuneful and comprehensibly tuneful, and must not be repetitious or stamped with triviality.”
Sergei Prokofiev
“Bright, joyous and optimistic.”
Aram Khatchaturian, on his 1962 Piano Sonata
Of the famed Soviet composer-troika, Aram Khatchaturian was easily the most joyous. Dmitri Shostakovich was sarcastic, gloomy, dismal, afraid of censorship, filling his music with codes, chimeras, secret meanings and tears. Sergei Prokofiev wisely got away from the Soviet Union, composing and performing in Europe and America before returning home, where half his works were...not so great.
But Khatchaturian? Not only he did he ignore the authorities, he became a True Believing Communist. And while he might have been censored, he was mainly excused as an Armenian, on the periphery of the Soviet Union. More than a Party member, Khatchaturian was Secretary General of the Composers Union, President of a Soviet “Organizing Committee” and a committed Bolshevik for most of his very successful life.
Oh, apparently he had his depressions. But as a creature in Stalin’s notorious ambit, that was natural.
And natural was his success, both in the Soviet Union, Europe, especially in the United States, where his “Sabre Dance” was played in orchestras, in Oscar Levant’s piano arrangements and–most impressively–-as animated by Looney Tunes, Tom and Jerry and “What’s New, Scooby‑Doo?”.
Whatever plaudits are given for Shosty and Prokofiev, Khatchaturian was tuneful, danceable (his ballets are inferior only to Romeo and Juliet), brilliantly orchestrated and far more memorable (if this is an asset!) than the other.
True, Khatchaturian is rare here in New York, but so, for a time, were Liszt, Bruckner and–before Leonard Bernstein–even Mahler. As for his piano music, most listeners would ask, “What piano music?”
The Armenian-bred pianist Kariné Poghosyan has set out to change this conception this evening, with an all‑Khatchaturian recital. Still, success was more in her digits than her decisions. Only four of her works showed Khatchaturian the original composer, the other three excerpts were from his ballets from three different arrangers.
All the works were played with dazzling virtuosity. Sometimes so much virtuosity that the wondrous Khatchaturian was lost the jungle of notes. One arrangement, in fact was all fingers and no Khatchaturian.
The opening Adagio from Spartacus became famed on British television. But the original melody is lugubrious at best. Here Ms. Poghosyan was given a piano arrangement that barely touched the melody. It resembled one of Liszt’s clunkiest pieces, showing technique rather than inspiration.
On the other end, those splendid finger were right on target with three movements that would have made Prokofiev jealous. The four‑minute Toccata is simply staggering. And that’s an understatement. The first measures are like the first seconds of an Indy car race. Ms. Poghosyan didn’t stop there, bolting forward until a wee little rhapsody gave her a chance to catch her breath, before whizzing to the finish line.
As to the two outer movements of Khatchaturian’s only Piano Sonata, Ms. Poghosyan pushed all the keys from top to bottom in the Allegro vivace. The final Allegro assai might not be Beethoven or Rachmaninoff–but the velocity of the notes made the Toccata sound like Brahms’ “Lullaby.”
Ms. Poghosyan herself arranged the “Lullaby” from Gayaneh with true respect for the original. Still, such are the wonders of the modal melody, the utmost grace, her frequent rubatos were gilding the gorgeous flowers. In two movements from Masquerade (as well as the ballet’s “Waltz” encore), the pianist allowed the music to speak–or sing–for itself.
Never having heard Khatchaturian’s Poem before, I expected an elegiac ode to roses and nightingales. Ha! “Poem” was pungent and sharp. More a poem written by a Mongol warrior around a blazing fire.
Whatever the shortcomings enumerated above, never once could I question Kariné Poghosyan’s allegiance and honor for her great composer. One feels that Khatchaturian himself would have said, “Whatever, whoever plays my music should offer the same joy with which I wrote it, and which audiences should receive it.”
In that, Ms. Poghosyan, her eyes gazing rapturously heavenward, her fingers running down the keys, was the indisputable winner.
Harry Rolnick
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